Sudden Invasion
by foxbird22
Summary: Two surveillance crews discover shocking information, mysteriously appearing at the same time. Will the reformation of a long ago destroyed planet and the invasion of a powerful enemy cripple the Lylat System or become the beginning of an epic adventure?
1. Mysterious Events

A bright flash of light emanated from a surveillance satellite at the outer reaches of the Lylat System as it scanned its surrounding area, the gigantic lens slowly closing after performing its duty. Digital commands raced through the satellite's motherboard at lightening speed processing the input it had just received. Milliseconds later, the satellite sent its latest feed to its recipients' destination millions of miles away. The vast emptiness of space did little to hinder the expensive device's function, yet it was strange the general vicinity the satellite was in disrupted its workings, though the satellite was oblivious to its malfunctioning.

The surveillance satellite in question had been placed at its current location shortly after the Aparoid invasion many years prior in an effort to protect the System from any future attacks. As the satellite seemingly floated aimlessly through the remains of a former planet, in reality it moved in unison within the debris of the planet, which had formed an expansive asteroid belt. The planet whose remains joined the satellite on its journey had been destroyed years ago by a militant force from the Imperial Solar System.

Furs normally shied from speaking of the Imperial Solar System. That particular race of beings had started on an escapade of conquering every single system in the universe, winning nearly every battle. Gradually, they became the most feared System, with enough power to wipe out even their biggest enemy, though few dared to challenge the bloodthirsty race to begin with. Inevitably, the Imperial Solar System discovered the Lylat System, and attempted to conquer it with high expectations. The Lylatians proved to be quite a force to reckon with, and in the end, the Imperialists were overwhelmed and fled from the battle. Lylatians all knew that the eventual return of the Imperial Solar System would be eminent, however they could not predict when. Not long after the initial invasion, the Imperialists returned for the sole purpose to destroy a particular planet…the remains of which were being investigated by the aforementioned satellite. Little did the Lylatians know that yet another attack would come sooner than they think…

The satellite's placement had been in the remains of the planet in hopes of answering popular scientific theories. The artificial destruction of a planet had never been heard of until the Imperials arrived. Flabbergasted scientists tried desperately to hypothesize answers to provide to the public to follow up the media's quick and eventual discovery of such a feat. The symbolic planet's destruction would not be taken well by many, and indeed it was not. Why the planet was so important and why it contained such symbolic and inexplicable powers remained a mystery. With the surveillance satellite in place, scientists and governmental intelligence agencies hoped to kill two birds with one stone.

Yet many thought the satellite's performance would be hindered by the mysterious powers claimed to have been witnessed in the field of debris. Some said that radiant neon colors were often seen in the area, and strangely, the presence of the colors seemed to disable or corrupt any kind of technology, although proof of this was never found. Because of this lack of evidence, most dismissed the idea of these powers. Or, at least, until they witnessed it for themselves.

Weston Promple, an aging surveillance worker at the Orbital Gate, had been one of those lucky first-time witnesses merely minutes ago. Promple, a drab gray feline, was the fur in charge of the small crew of five others who scrutinized the readings from all ten of Lylat's surveillance satellites. The room was littered with monitors, computers, printers, holograms, and many other technological devices. He sat in the center of the room in a typical office chair and carefully studied the latest reading from Satellite 3, not far from planet Sauria, in the monitor in front of him. He and the rest of his crew stood baffled by the strange neon blue colors emitted from the picture in front of them. The monitor they were all perplexed by displayed a digital scanning of an entire 360-degree radius around the satellite, reaching thousands of miles outward in all directions.

Promple shifted closer to the monitor and gazed into the disturbing transmission. _In all my life I can honestly say I've never seen anything like this_, he thought. Even though the Orbital Gate was a literal orbiting laboratory, warp portal (thus the name), and observation post with thousands of new discoveries made on a daily basis, no-one could say they had ever seen such a thing. Stars and galaxies glittered billions of miles in the distance of the satellite's feed, as normal, as did the many grey-brown meteorites in the belt. The remains of planet all seemed to be in their normal coordinate positions, traversing their path just as predicted. _But why are there colors? It can't be any type of magnetic field, there's no ion charge._ Indeed, neon blues, greens, and reds of nearly every shade danced across the screen, showing the exact same behavior as electromagnetized ultraviolet rays passing through an atmospheric planet's poles.

The feline struggled with his thoughts. _So if it's got the behavior of a magnetic field, why aren't the scanners indicating charged particles? And what's causing the satellite to malfunction?_ In an effort to sort things out, he began to speak aloud.

"Everything is going as normal until several minutes ago. We're all sitting around this cramped metal box of a room of ours, performing our duties at our posts like we should be. Then we notice Satellite 3 acting strangely, as if on its own schedule and doing its job at intermittent intervals. Am I right so far?"

His crew murmured near-indistinct affirmatives.

"So at least we're not all going crazy, that much is certain." He smiled slightly at the humor, feeling a lightened air as he heard more affirmatives.

"Alright team, listen up. Here's the game-plan. Brian and Rod, I want you guys to make sure the satellite's motherboard is still working properly. Sandy, you put the latest image into your computer and break down the digital scanning. Tracy, I expect General Hare to be notified of this finding immediately. And Jonie, help me look up this area's history so we can get an idea of what the hell is going on. Let's go, everyone!"

Promple's orders were carried out immediately as a frenzy of activities filled the small room. Each crew member obeyed their leader and began to find some answers to the bizarre questions that had so abruptly presented themselves.

The two black lab technicians zoned out the chaos around them as they turned their attention to their corner of the room, laden with high-tech equipment that looked like it belonged on an alien spaceship. They began punching some of the numerous buttons and manipulated an on-screen display of the satellite. As the image began to zoom in and out, revealing the inner core of the satellite's motherboard, many mathematical read-outs presented themselves on another monitor nearby. The pair of technicians punched another series of buttons and soon after the whirr of a printer produced a one-page report of the satellite's functions. Red print was littered across the sheet of paper, clearly designating serious problems. To the technicians' surprise, the satellite appeared uninformed of these errors. They thought it quite bizarre, considering the fact that the satellite was designed to recognize and diagnose problems on its own. White lab coats rustling, the two technicians barged their way through to the other side of the room and delivered the paper, completing their duty and returning to their post to think over the strange turn of events for themselves.

A pure white female husky typed furiously across from the quiet technicians behind her. She glanced intently at the screen before her, preparing a holographic connection for General Hare and Promple. The aforementioned feline stumbled over to her and tossed a sheet of paper on her cluttered desk. He demanded copies to be made for General Hare's staff, including the Cornerian Intelligence Agency. She shoved the document into the scanner and it immediately sucked up the document with a whine, beeping three times to indicate scanning had started. Less than a second later, her monitor displaying official security clearance windows was clouded with another window of the latest scanning. She pressed several buttons on her keyboard and confirmations read on the display in front of her. Just after she finished sending the document, Promple dashed his way back over and handed her a new document, obviously from the tan squirrel in the corner to the right of her. She carried out Promple's new request, shooting a look towards the squirrel, who seemed too intent on the freakish colors emitted from the monitor before her to even notice the husky's questioning gaze. Dismissing the squirrel's behavior, the female husky glanced back to her superior, who was currently engaged in a conversation with a female rottweiler. She returned her attention to her monitor for a moment, eyeing a confirmation on the screen, before spinning in her chair to face the feline in the center of the room. The feline, obviously displeased with his canine associate, bellowed loud enough the gain the entire System's attention.

"Since when do planets reform?!"

The angered Promple shot threatening looks at each member of his crew as if to confirm that planets indeed do not reform. Every fur in the room nervously glanced at each other, the silence that had so quickly ensued was broken just as quickly by a static crackling from the hologram projector in the center of the room. The female husky hesitantly announced the connection had been achieved.

"General Hare has acquired connection with you, sir."

A disgruntled rabbit dressed in a flowing red and gold uniform sat at his glossy cherry desk, looking straight at the hologram of Weston Promple and his crew at the Orbital Gate. The rabbit folded his arms on the cherry-wood desk, nervous shuffling from his staff audible behind him. He sat on the 100th floor of the Cornerian Military Headquarters in Corneria City, the capital of the lead planet of the Lylat System. As the rabbit made direct eye contact with the feline before him, he spoke justly.

"Let me get this straight, Promple. You contact me without warning, claim that you have an urgent issue at hand, I witness your crew in a state of obvious chaos, and I overhear the most disturbing question out of your mouth in the most unprofessional and disrespectful way imaginable?"

"General Hare," Promple stuttered, the razor-sharp words of the General eating at his mind with each passing second. "I apologize for the lack of conduct, but as you can see, the circumstances are most bizarre!"

"Indeed. Now, I would much like to hear-"

"General Hare, I hate to interrupt, but we've just received another transmission from MacBeth. It's from the Venomian surveillance satellite." The head female feline of the Cornerian Intelligence Agency cleared her throat behind him after her statement as if to punctuate the urgency of this new transmission. The rabbit paused momentarily before replying.

"Very well, Ms. Monroe. Let's see this transmission. I have a feeling that it might correlate with Promple's present situation."

To the utter shock of all engaged in the underway briefing, the transmission had everything, yet nothing, to do with Promple's own discovery.

A great many miles away, a confirmation code blipped in front of a monitor to signify that the data had been successfully and securely sent.

The data had come from another surveillance team located on the small blue-green planet of MacBeth. This new surveillance team had just received their own live feed from the surveillance satellite that had begun its job only weeks ago. This satellite, much larger in size than Satellite 3, orbited the wastelands of planet Venom. Its operation had been kept utterly top secret, and only a few ranking officials including the Cornerian Intelligence Agency based on planet Corneria knew of its existence. The tiny crew of three in charge of the top secret satellite gathered around the computer screen displaying the latest image around Venom taken only seconds ago.

Shimmering in the distance, a gargantuan battlecruiser by the name of the _Regal Miss_ emerged out of the depths of space, the words "Imperial Solar System" plastered boldly on the side of the massive vessel. Knowing all too well what the presence of the foreign visitor meant, one of the crew members watching the digital display before him cried out in horrified astonishment.

"My God… They're here!"

His mind reeling from the terrifying new presence, he hoped above all else that General Hare would be wise enough to know how to handle this fearful situation…

At yet another destination in the Lylat System near planet Fortuna, a well-known four-winged mothership idly orbited the flora-rich planet, a bright red symbol of a fox with wings sparkling against the metallic hull of the powerful ship. Rebuilt yet again after being destroyed, the mothership housed four members of the most famous mercenary team in history. The mothership had been destroyed at the end of an alien invasion on the Lylat System, and shortly after returning to Corneria, the team was awarded the new ship they currently flew in. Two particular toads at the Cornerian Research and Development base were responsible for the effort, especially as one of the toads had previously been a member of the mercenary team.

Inside the mothership, a blue-furred vixen sat up suddenly in her bed, shuddering in agony. The dream she had just experienced brought horrid memories flooding back to her. Vague images of her home planet quickly faded from her vision, the glittering gem of a memory blacking out as fast as it had illuminated. She shivered as another vision from the dream danced before her…the menacingly cruelty of it making her shake within her soul. Dead bodies of her race piled in front of her, the gruesome spectacle flickering away and leaving her with nothing but excruciating pain exploding within her. These ghastly memories were ones she dreaded were about to repeat themselves soon

_Too soon_, the vixen thought. She rubbed her radiant turquoise eyes and brushed away her dark blue bangs, revealing a headband with a tiny gem centered in the very middle of her forehead. She could feel the gem in question pulsating, a sign of the presence of evil wills. The vixen pushed the heavy blankets away from her as she hopped out of her bed, foot-paws colliding with the stone-cold metal floor. Her flowing light blue robe rustled quietly as she strode towards the full-sized mirror opposite her bed, the robe nearly identical in color to her cerulean fur.

As her foot-paws arrived at the plush light blue rug, welcoming the warmth flooding through them, she looked up into the mirror. All around her she could see her sleeping quarters, fully equipped with a bed, dresser, small table, and several closets. Everything, save for the silver-grey of the floor, was a beautiful cerulean color, including her staff, which sat patiently waiting for its master on the table. It too pulsated in response to the unknown evil presence, bright neon colors changing and flashing as though it were a strobe of warning and reflecting brilliantly against the gold-bronze trim that patterned the staff. She returned her gaze to her face, which clearly showed the bedraggled state she was in. Her matted fur and tired eyes were evidence of an unpleasant nightmare. She quickly examined herself, to confirm the fact that she was all in one piece. Her almost white muzzle curled into a smile, revealing crystal-white teeth, as she placed a light blue hand-paw on her hip and shifted her body into a brief pose. She did not stand before the blue-rimmed mirror for beauty purposes, although one could argue she retained her beauty through thick and thin, or at least that's what her most cherished vulpine thought. Her eyes gazed upon the gem atop her forehead, its behavior exactly the same as her staff.

Confirming her worries, she silently strode out the door towards the bathroom, a low, deep electronic hum filling the plain silver-grey hall. The maze of the huge mothership proved difficult to learn, but she quickly mastered the almost never-ending pathways that led to various other rooms. She passed three other doors on her way, the names of her teammates printed sloppily on the metallic doors. She stopped momentarily at the third door, placing a hand-paw against the cold surface and listening intently for any activity within the quarters. Silence. The vixen hesitated slightly before returning on her journey to clean herself up, as the undecorated plain hall did little to soothe her troubled thoughts.

In the sleeping quarters directly across from the vixen's, a dark grey lupine opened his eyes abruptly, his one good eye darting towards the door as his other eye, replaced with a computerized scanning implant, checked for activity in the hall directly on the other side of the door. Noticing strange light emissions, the lupine roughly leapt out of bed and grabbed a pair of black boxers, glancing at the time on the digital clock sitting on the side table next to his bed. It read exactly 0500, a time the lupine in question remembered all too well what meant. Shunning the long-ago memories of war, he returned his attention to the door. He tightly grasped the handle and pulled, revealing a quiet hum from the overhead lights and the look of the metal hall. The lupine paused momentarily, glancing around the hall to be sure it was safe. His brilliant purple eye sparkled menacingly as it caught the low lighting.

The lupine strolled casually across the hall towards his female teammate's sleeping quarters, powerful legs propelling himself forward, and was surprised to see the door wide open. Inside the almost entirely blue quarters, a staff patiently pulsated many different colors on the table top. Curiosity overtaking him, he forgot the fact he was intruding and cautiously approached the staff, scratching the top of his light grey head in wonder. Almost immediately, a quiet whirr was emitted from the staff as its color-changing increased violently. The dumbfounded lupine was unable to move as the staff began to vibrate. Seconds later, and still blankly perplexed by the staff, the lupine was sent flying backwards as a burning white heat engulfed the room.

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

He screamed in agony at the searing pain and crashed against the wall, his foot-paws unable to reach the floor as if an invisible force held him in place.

Barely conscious, the lupine failed to notice a blue-furred vixen run into the room, yell something entirely inaudible to him, and snatch the violent staff off the table. Immediately after, the lupine slid towards the floor and fell muzzle-first against the hard metal, blacking out into the world known as unconsciousness.

Breathing heavily, the vixen bent down to check her lupine teammate's vital signs, knowing he was lucky to have survived her staff's defensive attack. A light trickle of blood dripped from his snout, a result of his hard collision with the metal floor. With surprising strength, she effortlessly hoisted him onto her back and headed for the direction of the medical room, armed with the knowledge that the lupine slung over her fragile-looking back wouldn't be the only one suffering in the events soon to follow…


	2. Could It Be?

If any one word could sum it up, it would be beautiful. Everything radiated sheer purity. Nothing could compare with it, not even any of most prized planets in the Imperial Solar System's realm. No, this planet appeared completely untouched. It appeared so natural, peaceful, and quiet that one would conclude the only life to exist on the planet to be mere flora. Further examination would bring about a different description than "mere." Flora appeared to be the soul of this planet, reflecting exuberant rays, shades, and tones of blues and greens out into the empty darkness of space, seeming as to create a jewel within a massive expanse of absolute nothingness. One might even conclude that the shimmering atmosphere wasn't atmosphere at all, but rather the shocking radiance of the plant life. Any sign of possible animal life simply could not be seen from space. In fact, it would be almost preposterous to claim that animal life existed on the planet, for if it did, the beauty of the planet would surely be lessened.

Yet, once one set foot on this particular planet, one would discover a fascinating species, living amongst the flora without hampering its peacefulness in the least. A species so unique, so original, so unimaginable that it, too, could not be compared to any of the familiarities found within the Imperial's realm. The culture of this species was incredibly primitive, which, in its own bizarre way, contrasted so sharply with its cultural advancement that one would never had guessed the species could believe in the ancient rituals they practiced. These rituals in question seemed to be completely devoid of any hint at conflict, as if this species did not, could not, believe in war. Such a conclusion would not have been a false one, considering the planet's utter beauty and the pureness that this species radiated so intensely. It was almost like the beauty of the planet and its thriving planet life could all be owed to the peace and harmony of the species living on the planet. At least, up until this particular moment of time.

The species' civilization was massive. A population so large that it seemed impossible for them to survive so harmoniously. Not even the most heavily populated planet in the Imperialist realm could match the raw size of this species. Even those who had traveled throughout the Imperial Solar System would have been rendered speechless at the sight of this newfound land. This species' intelligence put all advancements made by the Imperialists to utter shame. Its potential for unsurpassable technology clearly indicated unimaginable scientific feats could be made on a daily basis. How the inhabitants of the planet were able to possess this potential without using it and without affecting the planet in any way was simply unexplainable. It appeared as if the species hardly ever used this technological power, nor did it appear as if they ever needed to utilize it. Any form of military was simply non-existent, yet evidence of militaristic potential was present. Space scanners indicated that this species possessed enough power, though what form of power remained unknown, that could obliterate the whole of the Imperialist Solar System with nothing more than the blink of an eye. The fact that none of this power or technological potential had ever been used would baffle any other civilization that existed in the universe.

This species, and its culture, obviously focused on two key beliefs, the first one undoubtedly being peace. The land's environment showed no sign of any disruption to natural processes, despite the impact that the population must have on the land. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of dense flora. Water so clear that it was transparent, displaying every aquatic organism in the rivers, lakes, and oceans to the deep bottom depths. Sky so pure that the blue it shone would nearly blind anyone who had never laid eyes on such beauty. Wind so gentle that it seemed like a storm would never form upon the land. Clouds so clean that they floated through the sky like fluffy passageways into the heavens. Terrain so smooth and gentle that one could see past even the horizon, completely free of any craggy mountains, steep valleys, or weathered canyons. Plant life so green that it gave a whole new meaning to an individual who only knew the drab color familiar to the Imperialist realm.

What could possibly be the religion, if one could even call it that, that this species believed in for them to act in such manner? What would cause them to not believe in war? What would make them live in such harmony? One could puzzle over this controversial concept for hours, not reaching a single conclusion. How could it be possible for a species like them to inhabit a planet such as this one? There seemed to be no logical explanation as to why the flora remained radiant and untouched while the huge population of the species managed to live so peacefully with such technological potential. Yet the answer to everything about this land was terribly simple.

What controlled the species, the planet? It is also the second key belief of the inhabitants.

Magic.

Some way, somehow, the planet harbored vast amounts of magical force. It was this magical force that governed everything about the planet, from its normal, or rather abnormal, geological features to the species that inhabited the strange planet. An aura of pure magic emanated from planet continuously, sending massive waves of energy out from the planet in all directions. Sometimes this magical force did strange things; other times, it wasn't detectable. Regardless of what this magic was truly made of, it most certainly controlled every aspect about the planet and its inhabitants. It explained the phenomenon of how such a huge species could live upon the planet without showing the least bit of environmental harm. It explained why the sky was so blue, the oceans to clear, and the terrain so gentle. It explained how harmony between the inhabitants and nature could exist at all times. Most of all, it explained how the pure essence of peace could be felt so powerfully on the planet.

Did it explain the species' culture, though? Did the magic explain why there was constant peace on the planet? Did it explain why militaristic forces were never employed? Did it explain why the species never used their technological power? This was another unexplainable part of the puzzle, and another one that, as one might have guessed, would have a simple answer.

If such an individual guessed that the planet's magic controlled the beliefs of the species, he would be right.

For this species felt the presence of this magical force at all times. It possessed each member of the vast race, just as each member possessed vast magical force. The close ties between the species and magic would almost make it seem as if one perished, the other would as well. How could this magic exist if the species didn't exist to keep the harmony and peace? How could the species exist if the magic didn't exist to govern their beliefs? The answer is, once again, simple. Magic and species did co-exist on this planet, and it was this precise tie that formed the basis of life upon the planet. It was this connection that enabled the flora to thrive as it did, completely unaffected by the inhabitants. It was this connection that enabled the species to have the technological potential without ever having to use it. It was this connection that sheltered the planet, its beauty, its peace, and its species from being consumed and destroyed by the darkness of the universe.

What was life like on this planet? Quite frankly, little is known. Few scientists even found this strange planet, and out of the ones that did, even fewer took the time to survey and study its behavior. Not a single alien living thing stepped foot upon the soil of this planet, and so nothing was known about the lifestyle on the planet, at least when it came to details. However, whence the day came that an alien body arrived on this planet, many things were discovered about the race that inhabited the planet. That alien body did not come in search of answers or to investigate the details of the precious planet and its inhabitants. He came for something else, much more menacing in nature, that happened at this particular moment in time.

Because of the mystical forces the planet possessed, one might guess that the species would be just as strange and mystical in its own right. If one guessed as such, he would be correct. What inhabited this planet was a species so strange, so unique, that it would awe and shock anyone.

Millions of anthropomorphized vulpines inhabited the planet. They all had many features specific to the human race, yet they combined closely with characteristics of animals. This species walked upright, spoke language, could gesture with hands, could run, jump, play, sing, and most importantly, possessed super-human intelligence. They weren't human, though. These creatures had fur, paws, claws, sharp teeth, tails, pointed ears, and muzzles. If an individual were to cross paths with a species of this type for the first time, they would instantly deem the species as strange, alienistic, perhaps even frightening. Yet, if one studied the species for long enough, he would determine that they were human in almost every right, save for their magical prowess, physical appearance, and harmonious beliefs.

What could summarize these creatures' culture? What sort of shelter did they live under? What type of religion did they cherish? What did their lifestyle consist of? These questions would be sure to interest almost anyone, particularly any anthropologist or sociologist in the Lylat System who would happen to stumble upon this civilization.

Yet if such a person were to begin research, they would quickly find and be disappointed by the fact that next to nothing was known about these anthropomorphized animals. What was known, however, would prove to be a solid basis for any researcher or scientist to hypothesize about the details surrounding the culture of these creatures. If one delved deep enough, he would discover anthropology records from hundreds of years ago, all hinting at what that particular person discovered when they briefly encountered the planet and its inhabitants. One would discover that as the years progressed, records became slightly more detailed, accurate, and reliable. If one were to examine current records about this planet, several facts could be proven true.

The first of these facts would be the strange information and description about the planet that has previously been described. Magical forces did indeed surround the planet and govern its geology and the lives of its inhabitants. That magic was the basis of their religion, of their very being. Some reports indicated a rumor that the inhabitants and the planet shared an unbreakable bond, a rumor that one would instantly deem unbelievable. What was this rumor? This rumor in question stated that if the inhabitants were all killed, the planet would self destruct. Why did this rumor start, and was it even feasible? The rumor was indeed feasible, but on what basis? Simple logic would point any scientist to the conclusion that the magic caused a special bond between the inhabitants and the planet, and if either perished, so would the other.

However, that rumor didn't concern anyone. At least, up until this point in time.

Scientists were more interested in the detailed religion this species practiced, and their lifestyle. Hypotheses ranged from mere rumors without any logical groundwork to lavish, detailed, and well-thought ideas presented by some of the greatest anthropologists and sociologists in the Lylat System's entire history. The most well-known of these theories was presented by an elderly hare, who was most certainly still living, and was an undercover surveillance manager who worked closely with the Cornerian government to report on this planet's daily behavior.

If one guessed that this individual was Weston Promple, he would be correct.

Promple spent his entire life until present day studying and hypothesizing about the planet. Almost every month the planet would do something so utterly unexpected that he would have to completely rethink its geological nature. Promple felt that he had effectively answered as many anthropological questions as he could with what information he had found, and he needed to know more about the geology of the land before he could continue further with the culture and lifestyle of the species. All of his findings were very detailed, and provided much groundwork for other anthropologists and sociologists to adapt their own theories in attempts to further explain the lifestyle of these creatures. Indeed, he continually encountered new things about the planet's geological aspects and often saw things he'd never seen before, sometimes confirming rumors or disproving them, but he was very solid from the anthropological approach of his studies. He confirmed rumor after rumor, theory after theory, and pieced together all of the important things about the creatures inhabiting the planet.

First out of everything, he managed to discover the anatomical biology of the species. Nearly all reports indicated that the inhabitants were much like all of the other furs living in the Lylat System. That is, they were all anthropomorphized creatures. However, unlike the Lylat System, only one race lived on the planet. Out of the millions of inhabitants, they were all the same race. Promple's studies pointed to the fact that these creatures were all vulpines, a single species of foxes. They all possessed the normal characteristics of vulpines in the Lylat System, save for one strange detail. Their fur color was a striking shade of cerulean blue, a fur color never before possessed by any other anthropomorphized animal. The color difference wasn't the only difference, however, as the inhabitants were reported to have multiple tattoos on their bodies, likely of religious importance.

What was the religion of this race? Promple wasn't able to go into much detail on their religion due to the fact that he encountered numerous unreliable resources that nearly all differed. He dismissed the fact as simply being too many anthropologists and sociologists interjecting their own personal religious viewpoints, thereby marring any credible reports of what the inhabitants really believed in. Regardless of the discrepancy, Promple found that all of the reports obviously pointed in the direction that the inhabitants strongly believed in and worshipped the magical forces controlling the planet. He discovered that they highly regarded the natural state of the planet, and they refrained from all activities that would be damaging to the balance of the land, which would create an imbalance in the magical forces. As a result of this, the inhabitants lived an amazingly simplistic lifestyle, even though they had the resources, power, and knowledge to rival and surpass even the most powerful planet in the Lylat System.

To conclude all of his findings, Promple brought together and combined the most feasible hypotheses as to the inhabitant's lifestyle. They lived in simple shelters built out of natural resources such as stone, but their architecture became much more sophisticated and beautiful when it came to temples, academies, or civilization centers. They would obey the laws of the magic at all times, continually respecting the land and keeping the peace and natural balance. When it came to their daily lifestyle, Promple concluded that he couldn't justifiably theorize without more information about the inhabitants, their land, or by personally stepping foot upon the land and studying the inhabitants in great detail. Unfortunately, he couldn't do the latter method, as the planet no longer existed, due to the fact of an event that happened at this particular moment in time. So, he resorted to the second option, surveying the geological features of the planet. At least, what was left of them.

After completing his research on the lifestyle of the species, Promple turned to the geology and studied it closely, discovering important and strange things that made him wrack his brain in attempts to explain his findings. In fact, Promple would go on to make the single most important discovery in all of Lylat's history, one that would thrust the System into the largest war it ever experienced.

What prevented anyone to discover more information about the planet, even Promple? Why would an individual, especially an anthropologist, discover such a planet and simply not feel the urge to investigate further? Clearly, any aspect about the planet would be unique enough to intrigue even the least interested individual. How could a planet such as this one seemingly exist without being examined in more detail? How could such a vast system such as Lylat possess this planet with knowing next to nothing about it? Most importantly, why didn't anyone seem to care? These bizarre questions are enough to drive any normal individual to the point of insanity. Once again, the answer proves to be simple enough. It's the exact thing that controls the planet that also controls all alien individuals who are fortunate enough to stumble upon such an amazing discovery: magic. The magic emanating from the planet, in some weird and utterly unexplainable way, was able to prevent any individual from growing curious enough about it to learn too much information and thus jeopardize the peace on the planet.

It has been mentioned that something of important significance has happened at this point in time. Clearly, nothing could mar the harmonious peace that this species enjoyed. Sadly, there was something so evil, brutal, and unfathomably terrible that could so cruelly destroy the radiating peace emanating from the planet.

There was only one problem that existed within this gem of a land.

Massacre.

Massacre so gruesome that one accustomed to the beauty radiating from the land would keel in disgust. Any individual to witness the sight would instantly jerk their head away in horror, shutting their eyes as tightly as possible. Even that wouldn't be enough to remove the burned-in image of millions of massacred bodies piled atop one another so unceremoniously and gruesomely. The stench of death from this massacre overwhelmed even the power of fresh scent of the flora. The air became so polluted with death that plants seemed to wither away and turn to ash from the reek while the air itself vanished into the empty, dark vacuum of space. Water that was once clear as diamond turned to black in color and vaporized with the shrill hiss of some type of chemical reaction. Terrain seemed to erode underneath the massacred bodies, swallowing them into their graves of soil.

There existed only one race that would consider this peaceful untouched land to be a threat and thus decide on an action as rash as massacre.

Aye, the Imperialist Solar System.


	3. The End of the Beginning

Traveling along the western outskirts of the South Quadrant, a chunky warship sped through the void of space. The average-sized warship could barely be noticed as it traversed the newly explored region of the quadrant in the Imperial Solar System. An invisible shield wasn't the cause for its low visibility; rather, it was due to its black color that enabled the warship to slink through the depths of the darkness of space with little detectability, or at least, to the naked eye. The entire structure of the warship was quite simple: it literally resembled that of a flying metal rectangular box, with slight changes to allow it to function as a part of a fleet. This warship wasn't necessarily meant for fighting in destructive space battles normally fought by the Imperialists. It was designed for scouting, but with enough features that allowed it to defend itself and function as a military vehicle, while keeping speed and agility in mind. With this concept in mind, the warship could easily be morphed with the aforementioned box and an arrow. The main body of the ship was a simple, rectangular form. As one examined the front of the warship, it would taper slightly as if it was the point of an arrow. The rear of the ship seemed to expand to be larger than the body, with massive engines possessing enough power to thrust the warship at lightening-fast speeds through space.

It has been said that the color of the warship was black. A black color that blended so well with space that it if it weren't for the red exhaust trailing behind the ship, it wouldn't be noticeable. The Imperialists believed that black was the color of danger; indeed, it is easily confirmed that this belief is true. Black not only symbolized danger and slightly camouflaged the warship, but gave that extra effect of surprise and death to unexpecting innocents. The combination of black and red exhaust propelling the warship forward gave an aura of certain threat to anyone observing the warship, as well as almost inevitable demise. If one were to examine the weaponry this warship possessed, it would be confirmed that very little power was required to obliterate unprepared enemy fleets or worlds. This warship wasn't meant for simply strolling through the universe and destroying enemy fleets for fun, though. The Imperialists put more emphasis on protecting the scout warship with the weaponry, which would enable it to defend itself while reinforcements could be sent in to destroy the fleet or world the warship encountered.

Since the Imperialists thought to keep things simple but powerful, the weaponry on the warship was both simple but highly functional. At the front of the ship, just beneath the arrow-point-like bridge, two photon torpedo launchers projected proudly into space, poking the nothingness with their long, slender shape. The antimatter torpedoes that could be shot from these launchers were simple to load, fire, and reload, as well as quite effective when it came to fighting against large enemy ships. Sticking out of both sides of the main body, a pair of phased plasma guns menacingly point to the front of the warship, ready to ruthlessly dissipate the shields of enemy fleets to allow easy destruction with the photon torpedoes. These two sets of weapons might have looked rather simple and not very powerful on the surface, but once the warship was engaged in battle, they would prove to be especially effective at allowing the warship to perform its duties with little hindrance. Working in combination, the plasma guns and photon launchers could destroy a small fleet of weak enemies or manage to keep a powerful fleet at bay until Imperialist reinforcements could arrive. These two weapons weren't the only ones on the warship, either; a series of smaller, less-powerful cannons could be independently operated by crewmen to defend against missile attacks by enemy warships.

There were three engines that powered this ship as it bolted through the South Quadrant. Two of the engines were meant for acceleration, while the third, and largest, was intended for maximum velocity. The two smaller engines employed one of the Imperialist key concepts: effectiveness. Antimatter powered the two small engines, allowing the warship to accelerate very quickly and efficiently. The large engine employed the second key concept: simplicity. Once the antimatter engines reached their full potential, the largest engine would start, providing its ion-powered efficiency to thrust the warship to its top speed and leave behind a trail of red ion exhaust. Working in combination, these engines accomplished two essential goals of every scout ship: quick acceleration and high speed. Both engines were quite efficient, allowing the warship to traverse entire quadrants of the Imperial Solar System without needing to refuel. Additionally, the warship possessed another essential transportation device every intergalactic-traveling ship requires: warp drive. Once the warship accelerated to enough speed, it could activate the drive and create the all-too-familiar wormhole of exotic matter and traverse a mind-numbingly long distance through the void of space within mere moments.

Some plausible arguments can be made against the effectiveness of this warship. Clearly, it seems to be quite powerful with its ion and antimatter sources of energy. How, though, is this ship able to obtain antimatter to begin with, and how could it possibly be stored? Such a dangerous resource must be hard to come by, let alone store. This concern can be quickly explained by simply thinking about the race which is being spoken of. The Imperialists discovered antimatter hundreds of years ago, and were able to harness its power shortly after its discovery. Not a century later, the Imperial Solar System found a way to efficiently create antiprotons, since antielectrons were very inefficient to store once created. The Imperialists equipped every ship of their fleets with typical storing devices where the antiprotons can be stored within cold, evacuated, and electromagnetic traps that allowed easy access for both engine fuel or creation of an antimatter bomb. Since such small quantities yielded such massive power, one refueling of antimatter could enable the Imperialist fleets to travel unfathomable distances without worry of running out of energy. A second argument that could be made is related to the obviously slow acceleration of the ion engine. This argument, too, is simple to explain. It makes logical sense that the antimatter engines allow the warship to obtain incredible velocity, and only after such speed is achieved can the ion engine begin its slow but gradual and efficient acceleration to even higher speeds.

Despite these facts which illustrate the awesome power of the warship, there was one weakness that plagued the powerful ship: the lack of a shield. This warship was built during a short battle with another system, and the Imperialists decided upon a simple militaristic strategy: quantity. Hundreds of warships quite similar to the one just described were constructed during the time of the skirmish in an attempt to overwhelm the enemy and eventually defeat them. Because of this goal, the Imperialists overlooked the need for a shield, as they were regarded as unnecessary and a poor waste of resources. When the Imperialists attacked the enemy system shortly after an invasion that has yet to be told of, they weren't expecting to be met by an equally powerful force and suffered a huge loss. Only a handful of the mass-produced warships escaped the skirmish and returned home to report of the unaccomplished mission. The Imperialists decided to postpone another attack and transformed the returned warships into scout ships to explore the mentioned region of the South Quadrant.

Why were they exploring the South Quadrant? Perhaps an investigation of the internal workings of the warship may help.

"Get up you lazy-ass scum! The Emperor can't complete this invasion without your worthless souls!"

Tray Gorgeon started as the gruff words ate through his skull and into his subconscious slumber, brutally waking him from the peaceful confines of sleep. On instinct, his eyes flew open and dilated as the blinding light assaulted his jet-black pupils. The room erupted into a frenzy of disgruntled mumblings as the clearly annoyed recruits forced themselves from the realm of drowsiness and into reality, scrambling out of the bunk beds lining the walls of the soldier's quarters. Tray's nose was abruptly bombarded with a musky odor as the blankets of the beds were strewn about, stirring the scent of sleeping men into the air. Within three seconds after the rude awakening, thirty recruits stood beside their beds and looked past the bare metal walls to stare in the eyes of their careless commander.

"Three seconds is the best you can do? I ought to have the lot of you hung for conduct unbecoming of the Emperor!" bellowed the sturdy commander as he towered in the doorway to the soldier's quarters.

"No, sir! We serve the Emperor!" shouted Tray and the rest of the recruits, as their voices rang in the empty, hallow walls of their confines. The band of recruits, dressed in nothing but dark gray military pants, stomped their right foots and shook the cold, hard surface of the metal floors. Their gaze unwavering on their commander, they slightly tilted their heads upright and unemotionally yelled into the stale air of the warship.

"May we conquer the Universe!"

Seemingly satisfied enough to move on, the commander entered the room and carried his stocky build forward with each movement of his powerful legs. The dark blue of his golden-trimmed uniform glowed almost menacingly against the dull metallic walls of the room as he approached Gorgeon, glaring insultingly at every other recruit as he passed by. Stoic gazes met the commander back, but despite the formal militaristic show, each recruit internally despised being aboard the warship. In no less than seven great strides, the commander reached the end of the room and stood face-to-face with the five-foot nine-inches Gorgeon.

"So, the new recruit can't keep up with the _harsh_ conditions of serving the military, can he?" mocked the commander, as he mauled Tray with a lightening-fast blow of the fist to his stomach. Military training instantly kicked in as Tray continued to stand straight upright, hardly flinching from the blow as his dark brown eyes bore into the fuming commander before him. His eyes flickered over the commander's dress, taking in the clean-shaven look of his malicious facial features and bald, rounded head. The uniform seemed to glisten before Tray, the navy blue color and glinting gold trim piercing into his brain and activating his desire for leadership…

"Don't look at my uniform like you want my position, you worthless ass! You aren't home anymore, you're in the military now, boy. I expect that next time you're out of that bed of yours in three seconds, not four. _Do I make myself clear?_"

"Yes, sir!"

_How is it possible to create such a dishonoring military? It was one second!_ thought Tray as he envisioned ripping the commander to shreds, trying to keep a straight face from the pain erupting in his gut. _I can't believe I left home to serve for this worthless race_.

"Good. Then I think it's safe to assume that all of you maggots are capable of getting in uniform without your mommy's help. Report to the bridge in five minutes, or have your heads ready to be hung in the Emperor's study."

With that command, the commander quickly turned on his heel and briskly walked out of the room, leaving the recruits to hurriedly dress themselves for duty. Their jet-black uniforms hung neatly on hooks attached to the plain metallic walls, the silver trim on each almost blending in perfectly against the wall. Spots of dark gray camouflage littered the items of clothing, providing an interesting touch to make each recruit's uniform stand out in some surroundings and hide in others. The Imperialist desire for black directly reflected the choice of color for recruit uniforms.

Tray snatched his uniform off its hook and threw it on, buttoning it neatly and smoothing the wrinkles that had accumulated on the rich black fabric. He reached for his badge within the breast pocket and took it out, placing it just above the pocket so the silver shine of the metallic piece could radiate its image of a winged planet, the insignia of the Imperial Solar System twinkling brilliantly along with the rest of the silver trim on Tray's uniform in the bright light piercing through the room. The recruit continued to reach for his military boots located underneath his bed, pulling the jet-black footwear from out of the depths of under the bed and grimacing slightly from the pain throbbing through his stomach. He laced the boots, rising to his feet once more as he ran a hand through his jet-black hair and ensured that his uniform was straight. Satisfied with his appearance, Tray strode from the soldier's quarters and made his way for the bridge, glancing at his fellow recruits as they continued to don their formal combat dress.

The halls of the warship were no more attractive than the soldier's quarters, as Tray walked alone through the empty confines of the black metallic walls making up the corridor running through the arrow-morph form of the warship. Almost everything about the warship was plain; the sleeping quarters, the armory, the hangar, the bridge, the halls. Tray couldn't stand the simplicity and effectiveness that the Imperialists believed in, as the same metallic walls continued to greet him along his seemingly never-ending journey to the bridge. The recruit passed several familiar rooms along the way, as the soldier's quarters were almost at the very back of the ship. He spotted the entrances to the armory, captain's quarters, mess hall, and medical bay as he traversed the hall's path, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hallow emptiness that seemed to both plague and possess the warship.

_At least they made it one story_, he thought gratefully as he approached the entrance to the bridge at the very front of the ship, his footsteps quieting to reveal the low hum of the lights illuminating the halls he had just traversed.

Within a minute after departing the soldier's quarters, Tray had arrived at the doors to the bridge. He gazed at the black metallic surface, watching as it slid open to reveal the clumsy bridge of the warship. The bridge appeared quite generic to Tray, as he always thought of a bridge to consist of more than simply a hologram projector and a room big enough to hold an entire crew for a briefing. Indeed, the bridge revealed little more than black metallic walls in a slight D-shaped room, the massive projector jabbing its way into the bridge for the crew to participate in whatever briefing that may occur.

"We're no longer alone, Sire."

Tray instantly jumped to attention when he heard that comment, undoubtedly recognizing the fact that it was directed toward him. He entered the bridge, emotionless face staring right at the dark figure cloaked in the dim light of the hologram projector. The recruit knew the voice that had sounded: it was the Emperor's mentat, supernaturally calculating every thought that dared to process within the ruler's mind. Even though the mentat could not be seen, and Tray had never seen him, the knowledgeable booming voice did not betray the fact of his identity as a superhuman computer. Tray's ears picked up on the brief silence that ensued, before his commander turned to speak.

"You're early, Gorgeon. Did you not consider that the Emperor may not have wanted to speak with you and the recruits until the time I had established?"

Fumbling slightly for words and yet keeping an impassive look on his soft, rounded face, Tray was quickly hushed when the deep, grating voice of the Emperor sounded over the projector and into the air of the bridge.

"Do not worry of him, Commander Atreyu. I sense his potential as a recruit, and he has my permission to know of our doings."

Atreyu, though keeping a solid formal aura about him, was highly irritated that a new recruit could be allowed to overhear the militaristic plans of what may potentially be the most immoral massacre in the history of the Imperialists. As if to confirm the commander's thoughts, the mentat's voice rang through the air once more.

"Might I remind you, Sire, that there exists no way of exchanging information without making judgments?"

Making his own thoughts heard, Tray boldly stepped forward and addressed the Emperor, whose hidden eyes seemed to pierce straight through the depths of space, into the projector, and out into the mind of the recruit's head.

"I may dismiss myself if the Emperor wishes to continue his worthy briefing in solitude."

Commander Atreyu nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Gorgeon address the Emperor. Never before had he seen a new recruit so formally speak to the Emperor, let alone muster the courage to stand before the ruling figure of the entire Imperial Solar System. Though the mentat could not be seen, he too was clearly shocked at the recruit's daring move, eliciting a muffled gasp that rustled through the air.

More surprising than either of these two reactions was the Emperor's own.

"Your potential as a recruit is indeed admiral, Tray Gorgeon. Not for many years have I had the privilege to come across an individual such as yourself. Please, stay, and take my opportunity for you to experience how the internal workings of the race you defend are operated."

Tray inwardly smiled as the Emperor's harsh voice stopped, his obvious compliment making the recruit understand why he chose to enter the Imperial military. Keeping the traditional and formal look about him, Tray stomped his right foot, tilted his head, and shouted the Imperial salute to the System's Emperor.

"For the Emperor!"

Returning his attention to the briefing at hand, the Emperor addressed Atreyu.

"Now, then, I believe we were discussing the best method to eradicate the Manimals on the planet you've located. What are your thoughts on this matter?"

"I doubt there is a better weapon than the antimatter biomissiles you yourself have just engineered, Sire."

"Indeed, Commander. Have you enough stocked to be certain to massacre them all?"

"Yes, Sire. Four of them."

Ensuring his superhuman mind had not been forgotten, the mentat interjected his own thoughts into the decision, preventing any rash misjudgment from occurring within the corrupted philosophies of the two planners.

"To know what one ought to do is not enough, Sire."

"I'm aware of that, mentat. For now, I believe it is time to try our new weapon!" responded the Emperor as Atreyu smirked, about ready to cut the hologram transmission before the Emperor resumed speaking.

"Gorgeon, I would like for you to contact me when this invasion is accomplished, for I have some…_ideas_…that concern your career. Is that clear?"

No more surprised than Atreyu or the mentat at the Emperor's unpredictability, Tray forcefully responded to the ruler's request.

"Yes, Sire! For the Emperor!"

"Good. Commander Atreyu?"

"Attack will commence immediately, Sire. Atreyu, out!"

With that, the hologram projector flickered as the blurry, dark figures of the Emperor and the mentat disappeared, replacing their gloomy image with a valiant emblem of a terrestrial planet with great eagle-like wings jutting out from the glittering silver icon. The insignia of the Imperial Solar System shone throughout the bridge, illuminating it with a bright, almost proud light that could raise the spirits of any soldier. This positive aura surrounding Tray was instantly cut down when the commander suddenly barked at the recruit, nearly foaming at the mouth with rage.

"Who in the hell do you think you are?! Recruits are _not_ allowed in briefings with the Emperor! If you hadn't suddenly became his little pet, I'd have your ass for dinner!"

Shaking with anger, Atreyu forced himself to calm down. _I have an invasion to lead_, he thought, glaring at the moderately muscular recruit. Resuming a collected state, the commander prepared himself for the mission ahead. He inwardly grinned, dreaming longingly for massacre…raw, uncontrolled massacre. Atreyu chuckled under his breath, anticipating the pure pleasure he would get from watching those despicable Manimals feel the painful wrath of his command. Oh yes, they would suffer…they would be piled into huge heaps of dead, burning bodies, the pleasant odor of scorched flesh entering his nostrils, and the gruesome spectacle pleasing his icy light gray eyes with horrific tangled bodies ripped apart by the limbs…

Tray sighed lightly, as his fellow recruits entered the bridge precisely on time. _This is life as a proud recruit for the Emperor,_ he thought. It was time for him to fulfill his duty as a recruit to the Imperial Solar System, the only race with enough brutal evil coursing through its veins to ruthlessly challenge and take command of other systems by the handful. Tray Gorgeon would be helping them with one particular system, but little did he know that he would become involved in many more ways than one…


End file.
